I feel funny. Not funny as in ha ha, but funny as in odd. I feel unsettled, actually I feel anxious. I hate feeling anxious. I have been feeling like this for a while and it is worrying me, so I decided to do some literary therapy. As my mother always says ‘write it down, it will seem much clearer then’. So I am writing it down here. It will probably be long winded and not flow, but I need to try and get some of the noise in my head out.
I think the base for my anxiety (besides the general pg stuff) is that I have realized that I still have a lot of unresolved grief about my last pg loss, and specifically the loss of Ben. And it makes me scared.
As much as I loved Luke, Ben’s loss was / is far harder to deal with. He was more ‘real’ in that I saw him, I touched him, I held him. He looked like his dad, he had my hands.
I went to visit my mom the other day and she said to me ‘you know what I read in that letter, between the lines? I read that you are still hurting about Ben, a lot’. And it is true. Writing that letter to my mother was so hard for me, remembering back, I sobbed and sobbed. In fact I wrote this entry below just after I had finished the letter, that I never posted. It’s amazing how my mother picked this up, she touched on exactly how I was feeling.
Postscript to the letter to my mother
Oh God that was hard to write. So hard. Brought back so many memories, and so fresh. There is so much pain still there. I love that little boy so much and I always will. He will forever be my first-born, my special brave boy.
My heart breaks that his time was so short. He never even came home.
I can’t stop crying. I just miss him so much.
Where are you now my boy? Are you happy? I miss you. Mommy misses you brave boy, and I will love you forever, don’t you forget that. Forever. My special boy.
Will the wound ever heal? Each time I lift the band-aid off slowly, to take a peak, the wound is as raw as always. I don’t know, maybe its better to rip the band-aid off completely, to let it all out so that it can get better. But I am scared to. Not now, not while pg and on bedrest. Yet when? Will it ever heal?
I am ok, if I don’t touch the band-aid I am ok. Is it ok to live with a band-aid on forever do you think? Will the wound slowly heal under it? I know taking it off and letting every thing come out is best, but if I can’t, might it slowly heal on its own? I know the scar will be there forever, that’s ok. Scars make people interesting, better. This is a scar I carry with pride.
You know, as I was writing that letter to my mom and remembering, I was sobbing my eyes out. And as I was crying Kate and Adam started kicking (after being quiet all morning and stressing me out), as if to say ‘here we are mom, we love you too, don’t cry’. And I do love them, with all my heart, but there is no limit to love, and I will always love and miss my first-born. Having more children doesn’t make up for the ones you’ve lost. Children aren’t replaceable or inter-changeable.
Do you think if I don’t confront the grief right now, if I don’t let it all hang out, that it might heal slowly on its own? It’s far less than it was in the beginning, obviously, but it is still there.
I can’t take the Band-Aid off now. Not now.
This is going to sound terrible but I have been feeling disassociated from this pg for the last few days, almost since that letter. And it has been freaking me out, I don’t know whether I am too scared to bond because I might lose them too, or because I have such unresolved grief for Ben. I went straight into my next IVF, as soon as I could, straight on AD’s and back on the horse, any thing from having to live in that daily pain.
I feel my fear, my grief, is keeping me from bonding with Adam especially, which makes me feel sick with guilt. How can I ever love another little boy as much as I love Ben? Of course I can, I know this logically, but logic has little part to play in emotion, as you know. Somehow it is easier with Kate.
I have made an appointment with my therapist, because I know I need to sort this out. Before these babies are born. I can’t leave the Band-Aid on and hope it will heal on its own, I know that now.
Perhaps it is timing, as it is coming up to the time when Ben was born. I don’t know.
The time after I loss Ben was the worst time of my life. The pain was so enormous it nearly crushed me. I can’t even begin to describe to you what it was like. I nearly died, if not from the pain but from the primal need to get away from the pain and be with my son. And it scared me. After the worst was over (and the AD’s had kicked in), I said I never want to feel like that again. Ever. It took every single ounce of my strength to get through that, next time I might not make it. That time a few weeks back when I thought I had ruptured membranes again, that fear came back and I realized then that I don’t think I can get through something like this again.
And that is also why I am scared. Scared to open up those wounds again, scared to love again.
Perhaps it is this. Up until now, although being petrified at being pg again, I have managed to almost temper the fear by thinking that this pg might not last. Now, as we get closer to the time of viability, when Ben was born, the prospect of having babies is becoming more real. And with it the fears of losing them again, of prematurity, of being back there again. Of having my baby hooked up to monitors, of having the alarms go off when he stops breathing. Of waking up every morning with a fright thinking ‘oh please God, please let him have not died in the night’, that terrible sick, terrified feeling you get when you phone the NICU first thing to find out how his night was. Oh f*ck, I can’t do that again.
There is so much going on in my head. Too many memories, too many fears.
I feel anxious, scared. I hate feeling like this.
I know grief takes a long while to heal, but is it supposed to feel so sore still? Is my heart still supposed to break when I think of him and his short little life?
That is why I keep packing it away, the memories, the grief. Because when I take it out it hurts so much.